


The Inspector's Self-Examination

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: This is the result of a request from a gentle reader (you know who you are, dirobinsonhearteyes!) after reading Thoughts Late at Night: the suggestion was for a story about Jack's thoughts after Murder and Mozzarella.A story? More like a whim, a notion. But I hope you will enjoy it.These are not my characters, in fact I can't control them at all.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	The Inspector's Self-Examination

Jack Robinson walked slowly and thoughtfully to his car as he left Strano’s.

He had just said goodbye to Concetta, who had taken him in when he was at his lowest, who had befriended him, cared for him, even made him feel less a failure after Rosie left him. 

He had met her when he was assigned to investigate the murder of Concetta’s husband. She had suggested he should come to the restaurant after hours to discuss the case with her. He did so, many times, and although he was never able to pin the murder on his suspect, he developed the habit of stopping in to visit Concetta. 

At first they kept strictly to the topic of her husband and the case, as befit the work he was doing. But as time went on, they were more relaxed in each other’s presence, and began to express an opinion here and there, or ask how the other’s day had gone. Soon they became fast friends, yet always with a soupcon of something more, just out of view.  
She had been welcoming, easy to talk to, always there, and he had been grateful. And now, he had put an end to it. And for what? 

Concetta had sent him away with a bottle of wine to remember the good times they had enjoyed, wisely recognizing that he was “taken.” He couldn’t deny it. But the exotic woman he was taken with—was she also taken with him? Was he more than a pleasant distraction while she toyed with the idea of being a Lady Detective? 

Jack reached his car. He got in and closed the door, but made no move to start the engine. “Where,” he pondered, “am I going?” The question was as much existential as it was directional. And yet, he knew the answer. 

Almost mechanically, he drove to Wardlow. Another time, he had sat outside in his car, tapping his long fingers against the steering wheel as he tried to decide what to do. This time, he swung out of the car, stopping only to grab the bottle of wine, and strode purposefully to the door. For better or worse, he rang the bell. 

Mr. Butler ushered him in, looking strangely relieved. 

Jack was surprised to see Phryne, as much as she was surprised to see him. Oh, he was not surprised to see her in this very familiar place: what surprised him was to see her looking so small, even bereft. When she looked up at him through those large sad eyes, he began to feel he had made the right decision.

And as a catlike smile spread slowly across Phryne’s beautiful face, he knew he had.


End file.
